


Please do not read this until i rewrite it- its painfully bad

by idrownedallmysims



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: A little spicy, Alternate Universe - Regency, Dead Emilie Agreste, F/M, Gabriel is a dick, My First Fanfic, Wallflowers, adrien has daddy issues, adrien is a duke, alya and mari are sisters, author is trying her best, but there's no magic, historical accuracy who?, inspired by julia quinn and lisa kleypas, not paris, okay maybe a lot spicy, playboy adrien, this is in london
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-03-08 18:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 12,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18899941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrownedallmysims/pseuds/idrownedallmysims
Summary: Adrien, a known Rake and the future Duke of Agreste, has arrived in London after a three-year stay in Paris, just in time for the London Season. But much to the dismay of every unmarried woman in London, he expresses that he has no desire for a wife.Marinette, despite a good family and a moderate dowry, has no prospects for marriage after an incident with a tray of champagne flutes last year.But when Adrien sees a masked girl in a red dress at a masquerade, he may have to reconsider his whole "no marriage" rule.





	1. Dances with Dukes

The death of the Duchess of Agreste, unlike most gossip in the Ton, did not reach the ears of England’s gentle society until the invitations to her funeral were sent out to the most elite and fashionable members of society. The duke’s only son, away at school, was delivered a brief letter in the days following his mother's death and departed immediately towards Castle Noir.

The estranged relationship between the duke and his son was no secret, and none were surprised when as soon as it was appropriate, Adrien departed his family home, bound for school.  
The already reclusive duke did not reemerge into society nor did he take another wife to secure more children. He ran the estate with silent efficiency, his tight-lipped steward the only connection between him and the outside world.

Instead of returning home, when Adrien finished school at eighteen he fled to the continent. For three years society heard nothing from either the Duke of Noir or his son Adrien. Then suddenly, a fortnight before the start of the spring season the Agreste house in London was opened, and soon the future duke took up residence.  
_______________

It was an unseasonably warm night in April, and Lady Bourgeois's ball was packed so tightly Marinette could barely move. She had lost her mother and her sister Alya in the crowds just a moment before and no amount of stretching up onto toes could help that her petiteness made her unable to peer over the shoulders of the crowd. 

Despite the crowd’s height advantage she managed to spot, not her family, but a lemonade station in the corner. Maneuvering through the crowd she managed to get several feet away from the refreshments, only to trip over the obnoxiously wide skirts of Chloe Bourgeois and fall forward into a servant carrying two trays of champagne. A loud crash and the whole room quieted as the crowds stepped aside to reveal Marinette sitting on the floor, her whalebone skirts very obviously broken. The broken champagne flutes covering the scene was enough to inform the onlookers of what had transpired. Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette saw Chloe cover a snicker with her glove.

Red in the face, and with the help of two gentlemen, Marinette got up, found her mother and sister, and walked out of the ballroom with surprising composure. Marinette didn’t bother to finish out the season and went home to her family’s country house to live with her father. 

The next year, despite having a formidable dowry provided by both her family and her new brother in law, the Viscount of Carapace, Marinette had no hope of a suitor, much less an engagement. Despite being one of the prettiest girls of the season, no gentleman wanted a clumsy bride.


	2. Alya's Idea

"Don't be silly, Marinette. You're one of the prettiest girl this season! Not to mention the most talented. Not even Chloe Bourgeois could compete will your talent with embroidery, or sewing, or watercolors! I don't understand how one little incident has given you the impression that no bachelor would ever want to marry you. I ought to get Nino to…"

 

Marinette grimaced as she watched her sister pace up and down the drawing room floor.

 

"Of course, I would never ask him to resort to violence, but some of those men laughing about you are fat old-“

 

“ _Alya_!"

 

"Oh Marinette, you know it's true. I would never speak ill of a gentleman, but these are not gentle in the slightest. Everyone knows Lord Halbard has two mistresses and no matter his title I think-“

 

"Oh please stop it Alya, there's no need to get all worked up about it. Especially in your delicate condition." Marinette pointedly looked at the new Viscountess of Carapace's stomach, although there was no sign of a bump yet. Besides, referring to any condition of Alya's as delicate would be a stretch- she had refused anything that could be qualified as bed rest.

 

"Hm! I'll show you delicate.." The brunette muttered under her breath, nevertheless sitting down on the sofa opposite to Marinette. "It just frustrates me that I supposedly have all this power as the Lady of this estate, and yet I can't do anything to help you. You're too kind and good to be a spinster and..." Alya paused, noticing the embroidery Marinette was staring down at. "What are you working on now?”

 

Marinette looked up and smiled. "It's going to be a bonnet for the baby. It's nowhere near done but I thought I might embroider little foxes on it." She held up the embroidery hoop and showed her sister the scene of foxes, running along the hem.

 

"Oh, I love it! You know you don't have to make so many things for the baby, it will probably grow out of them before it can wear them all.”

 

Marinette just shrugged, putting down the embroidery and stretching her fingers. "I enjoy sewing.”

 

She reached out for another biscuit, only to knock over a partially full teacup. "I'm sorry! I'm so clumsy... No wonder no man wants to marry me.”

 

“Mari, honestly! Let me ring for Anna." A servant girl bobbed in, dabbing up the tea with a cloth and taking the tea tray away. Marinette leaned back in her chair, sighing.

 

"I'm totally helpless Alya!" After the "incident" last year she was hyper-aware of every stupid mistake she made, whether it was bumping into a lady at a party, or catching her foot in a crack on the sidewalk. If only she had the grace so desired of a wife, she may have been able to make a match as good as Alya's. Now she was positive she would end up a spinster. At least she would have nieces and nephews.

 

"I'm sure that if any of the men got to know you... Oh, yes! I've got it! Lady Chemack is holding a costume party in a fortnight. Everyone will be wearing a mask. You'll go, meet all the bachelors and then surely all will be asking for your hand before they even know your name!" Alya smiled wickedly, plucking a fresh biscuit off the tray Anna had just carried in. "This will be so much fun. Nino is going, his friend Lord Agreste will be there although he is much too devilish to be caught by marriage yet. And I'm sure mother would enjoy it, she is such good friends with Lady Chemack.”

 

"I'm not sure a mask obstructing my vision is the best idea. Plus, I'll still be clumsy with or without the costume." Marinette groaned at the possibility of her mask slipping down over her eyes, or her tripping into a woman dressed as Marie Antoinette and accidentally knocking her into a Henry VIII. Maybe it would be ironic.

 

“You’re overthinking again.”

 

“ _I am not.”_

 

“Liar. You’re usually so optimistic Marinette. Didn’t Lady Rossi call me ‘unmarriable’ last year? You’re the one who introduced me to Nino. You’ve always had my back, so now it’s my turn to repay the favor.”

 

“What if-“

 

“You’re upsetting my delicate condition dear sister. If you keep disagreeing I might _collapse_.”

 

Marinette tightened her lips and glared at her. A moment passed.

 

“I’ll go. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am always optimistic for everyone but myself.” She picked up her embroidery and an extra biscuit for the walk home. “But I must get started if I’m going to come up with a costume.”

* * *

 

 

Marinette sat with a sketchbook later that afternoon in the garden, a pile of wadded up papers by her feet.

 

_Nothing was inspiring enough._

 

_Nothing was new, or bold, or unique._

 

A ladybug flew into her eyesight, doing a lazy circle around the flowers before settling on her sketchbook.

 

Her eyes widened and she began her design.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends!! I did not expect such a great reaction at all!!! So I've decided to keep going at it. I know nothing about writing (behavioral healthcare major here) other than reading so any suggestions will be greatly appreciated. If you notice something wrong, LET ME KNOW! Anyways, I wonder what Marinette's costume for the ball will be...


	3. Reunions

The eyes of Lord Carapace settled on a golden-haired head at the back table, bent down over a newspaper. He weaved through the gambling tables, servants, and patrons in one of the busy rooms at White's pausing only to grab a glass of port off a waiter's tray. It had been three years since he had seen his friend from Eton and from the rumors he didn't know whether to expect an angel from heaven or a devil straight out of hell. Or maybe he had the appearance of an angel but the soul of the devil. Nino didn't really care for musings about spirituality, so he focused on his target.

 

Meanwhile, the poor Earl of Noir took a drink of brandy, casually reading about a duel between two politicians. He had just gotten to a particularly juicy part when a tanned hand snatched the newspaper out of his hand.

 

Adrien stood up, irritated, only to see his boyhood friend standing over him, the crumpled newspaper in hand.

 

" _Adrien_! I ought to have you drawn and quartered for not coming to my wedding" the viscount said, grabbing his shoulders.

 

Adrien was about to remind him who preceded who but decided against it as Nino continued. "Not that I don't blame you, I find weddings terribly boring myself. Not my own, of course, the viscountess would kill me if I said otherwise but oh, you have got to meet her. She's unlike any other gentle bred woman I've met: bold and spirited and..."

 

Adrien sat back down, motioning for Nino to do the same. "I will call upon Carapace house this week my friend. I will determine if this lady is all you esteem her to be in your letters. Then we can go racing in Rotten Row before dark." Nino nodded and handed Adrien back the crumpled ball of what used to be a newspaper.

 

 "Now you _have_ to tell me about Paris... were the Frenchmen scoundrels? Did you really lay with all of those actresses?" Nino's eyes widened. " _Not_ that I'm interested in bedding other women. I swear Alya has ears everywhere."

 

Laughing, Adrien recounted a summer night in Paris with two French primadonnas over a fresh decanter of brandy, while Nino interjected with the spontaneous curse.

 

"Agreste, when we last stood face to face you were the shyest boy at Eton and now you might be the most accomplished rake this season! Aren't you thinking of abandoning your life of excess and finding a wife? Might be time to start working on that heir-"

 

" _I won't be having children_ " Adrien interjected.

 

"Surely you-"

 

The earl's green eyes flashed with anger, "I won't be having bloody children. Not while my father breathes."

 

Shocked by the sudden change, Nino drew back his eyebrows furrowed. "After three years you still haven't talked to your father? And what in God's name does a child have anything to do with him?"

 

"I refuse to do anything that will satisfy my father." Adrien looked away, lips tight with a hatred Nino could never understand. Nino's father had died before he was three, making him a viscount before he had been taught to count. Still, Adrien thought, maybe it was harder for a boy to have a father who would never love him than it was to never have a father at all.

 

"At least I will deny him that pleasure."

 

The viscount was silent for a moment. Then in a soft voice, he asked. "Are you making this decision based on what you want? Or what your father wouldn't want?"

 

The earl still didn't look at him. "I want what my father doesn't want. I'm don't give a _damn_ about the Agreste name."

 

The two gentlemen sat in silence in the noisy hazards room, eyes averted from the other. At last, Adrien's perfect posture faltered and his shoulders slumped forward. "Nino I'm sorry. It's just-"

 

"I know. Sore subject around your father. I'm sorry I pushed."

 

"You're a good friend Carapace. Let me make it up to you." The Earl of Noir turned towards his friend, his eyes sincere.

 

"Just come to one ball with me. At least have a look at all the unmarried masses. Even if you aren't looking for a match I promise it will be amusing. Lady Chemack is hosting a costume party with one of the finest sopranos in Italy."

 

 Adrien shot Nino a catlike grin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! So after some research, I realized that I needed to change some titles around a bit. Adrien is still the heir to the duchy, but it is now the Duchy of Agreste. Since Adrien is not a Duke yet (waiting for old Gabe to die) he has a courtesy title as the Earl of Noir. So... Marinette might not dance with a "duke" for a while. The family home is still Castle Noir because I'm a Game of Thrones fan so I loved the little Castle Black reference :)
> 
> Also, I figured out how to work this website so expect to see some /italics/ (ooh, ahh). The last two chapters have been edited for readability and lack of talent.


	4. Curiosity Killed The Cat

When Marinette slipped on her mask, it felt like magic. Maybe it was the fact that she could escape her reputation or maybe it was the days she spent sewing her mask and detailing her gown. And it had paid off too- the bright red fabric although not in fashion, complemented her porcelain skin. And her prized work, the mask, was the same red with black lace spots and attached to her head with golden thread.

 

Confidence.

 

Marinette had never felt it before, never truly. She was always anxious about something, always a little self-conscious. Her face was rounder than what was conventionally beautiful, her hair was too dark and her build too thin.

 

But tonight she felt beautiful. It was something about the color red, she decided.

 

Her mother, a petite and curvy woman with the same black hair as Marinette, was smiling at her from across the coach.

 

“I wish I could see your thoughts Marinette,” Sabine said softly. “I think that they would be beautiful.”

 

Unsure of how to reply, Marinette smiled softly and looked out the window at the lights up the road.

 

“I see lights, Mama, it shouldn’t be long now.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Carapace, you’re a dead man.”

 

The viscount in question turned with an innocent smile that made Adrien feel quite inclined to violence.

 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean” came the glib reply.

 

“You abandoned me. To _them_.”

 

“Them?”

 

“ _The mothers_.”

 

Nino laughed. “I wondered how the devilish Adrien Agreste would hold up against the husband-hunting party.”

 

“Not as well as he hoped.” Adrien gulped and adjusted his cravat. “One girl dressed as a parrot that I danced could make no conversation other than the temperature of the room. She sounded like she was going to pass out in my arms.”

 

“And did she?”

 

“No. I think she attempted to but she ended up falling into the arms of one Mr. Ramier before I realized she had fallen.”

 

“The pigeon fellow? Sounds like she might have made a catch after all”

 

Adrien said nothing. If this was to be the standard for all the other parties in London, he might as well go back to the continent. Maybe Greece would be next, or back to Paris. Paris had plenty of young women who were not accompanied by such terrifying chaperones- and more champagne.

 

“I wonder who that is.” Murmured Nino, nudging him out of his travel planning. Adrien grunted and looked up.

 

And when his eyes met the ones of the masked lady across the room- blue, her eyes were blue- he felt an uncomfortable tightening in his chest.

 

“You’re sure you don’t know who she is?” Adrien asked urgently of his friend, not once taking his eyes of the young woman who’d now been accosted to the dance floor by a man Adrien had met once at White’s. Couffaine, Luka Couffaine. The tightening in his chest became almost unbearable.

 

Adrien moved towards her, as if mesmerized, her red dress like a lighthouse in a sea of other partygoers.

 

He was gone before Nino had realized that his sister-in-law owned a gown very much like that one.

 

* * *

 

 

Before Mari had even entered the ballroom, she had been offered a dance. With a pleased nod from her mother, she smiled as he took her hand and led her out into the center.

 

“We haven’t even been introduced my... er...”

 

“Just Mister.” The stranger smiled, almost looking a bit shy. “Mister Couffaine.”

 

Marinette nodded, and before he had the chance to ask for her name she moved on, commenting on his snakelike costume.

 

Mister Couffaine was nice. He seemed kind and honest. His coat seemed to be of high quality, not that she needed someone with means after the dowry her brother-in-law had provided for her. The conversation flowed easily and they made for good dance partners.

 

Luka Couffaine would be a fine match for her. But something felt wrong like a force was pulling her in the opposite direction of him.

 

Her eyes locked with green ones over Mr. Couffaine’s shoulders.

 

“Ouch!”

 

Marinette realized that she had trodden rather heavily on her partner’s toes.

 

“I’m so sorry.” She saw the green eyes again and trailed off, wondering what color exactly they were. “My mind wanders rather often, I’m afraid.”

 

The dance ended and they stepped away from each other.

 

“Thank you for the dance Mr. Couffaine.”

 

“It was my highest honor. But I still don’t know your name.” Luka’s eyes held hers, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

 

Marinette cursed herself for forgetting. “I’m Miss Du-“

 

“Am I interrupting?” A cool voice purred from behind her, the hair on the back of her neck standing up.

 

Luka looked like he was about to answer in the affirmative before Marinette answered no.

 

“Excellent. I do hate to be rude. Mister Couffaine, might you do me the honor of introducing me to this young lady?”

 

“Lord Noir. I would, but I have not learned her name myself.”

 

Marinette finally turned to look at the stranger, and she suddenly felt lightheaded.

 

He looked like an angel with his face framed by hair so golden it seemed to glow. She realized he resembled an etching she once saw of Apollo Belvedere.The corner of his mouth twisted into a catlike smirk. Yes, he looked like a Greek God. He was probably as dangerous too. 

 

She realized she was staring and horrified she turned back to Luka.“I actually feel like I could use a refreshment or a breath of fresh air.”

 

Luka started forward, but the lord stepped forward. “It would be my pleasure to assist you.”

 

Marinette blinked and took his outstretched arm. She glanced around for her mother but could not find her, and allowed him to guide her toward the terrace.

 

Although the ballroom was crowded, the terrace was relatively empty. She realized that she may very well be alone with this man, and with increased horror, that she was thrilled by the possibility. The man next to her, Lord Noir, made her heartthrob and her mind heavy. This was improper and was most likely going to end badly for her but her mask gave her confidence she would never have had otherwise.

 

“You look beautiful in that dress,” said the mysterious lord, breaking the silence. “The most lovely ladybug I’ve ever seen.”

 

Marinette looked up at him, her courage growing. “And you look like an exceptional stain of ink.” He could have been one, dressed in midnight black from his head to his toe.

 

He laughed. “I understand the misperception. But no.” He bowed down towards her, showing her the top of his head. “I’m a cat.”

 

“Are those supposed to be your ears?” They looked more like horns to Marinette.

 

Noir straightened, a humorous twinkle in his eyes. “They were a last minute addition. My valet did his best.”

 

She said nothing instead fighting the strangest urge to reach up and touch the two black triangles on the top of his head.

 

“See something you enjoy, my lady?” Another grin. He was clearly enjoying himself.

 

“I’m not a lady. I’m a miss.”

 

“You _are_ a lady. _Lady-_ bug. Get it?” He leaned back onto the railing and Marinette could faintly see the outline of toned, broad shoulders. “And how would I know? You haven’t even told me your name.”

 

She opened her mouth but hesitated. If she told him her name would things change? Would he see her as a clumsy, stammering wallflower? Marinette had a terrible feeling that if the Lord Noir knew all about her little accidents then all the magic would end. He would cast her away like all of the other gentlemen. He would be _disappointed_. Marinette closed her mouth.

 

“Well?” He was staring at her with intense curiosity and had shifted from his leisurely position by the railing to standing so close to her that she could feel his breath on her forehead.

 

Marinette took a breath and her lips formed the same smirk he had flashed her moments ago.

 

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that curiosity killed the cat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends, I double posted because I know we're all excited to go to the ball :)


	5. Satisfaction Brought It Back

 

Adrien blinked. _Who was this woman?_ He only faltered for a moment (wondering what in God’s name he would do with this wild thing) before realizing gleefully that he could do what he does best.

He leaned closer, at the same time nudging her behind a conveniently opaque topiary.

His lips grazed her ear, and he felt her shiver. Her head tilted slightly to the side, so little that he doubted she even noticed she did it. but he noticed, and he took that as an invitation.

The air was thick, and deciding that she was properly bothered Adrien opened his mouth, the tips of teeth brushing over the ear. His ladybug gasped and Adrien’s hand went to her waist, voice dropping to a purr.

“Didn’t _you_ know...”

His lips trailed down to her jaw.

“Satisfaction...”

They eased down to the base of her neck and he knew that if he pressed his tongue right there/ that he’d feel her pulse, throbbing.

“...Brought it back.”

He pulled away.

She stared at him, her eyes wide as saucers and wild as the sea. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

Instead, she reached up, running her gloved fingers through his hair to the ears attached to his head with a string.

Adrien’s pants began to feel quite uncomfortable. His self-control started to waiver.

* * *

 

She should stop. She should pull away, she should run for the hills. This was reckless, this would make her a fallen woman.

But she stayed. Marinette couldn’t believe it, but here she was, one hand in this man’s hair while her skin still burned where his mouth had been on her neck.

She looked up at his face. He was truly the most handsome man she had ever seen, like a marble statue come to life. Her hand moved from his hair to his cheek, sliding her hand across his jaw.

“Lord Noir...”

“Adrien.” He said hoarsely. “Call me Adrien.”

“I’ve never... never touched another man like this,” Marinette whispered, withdrawing her hand.

Lord Noir, Adrien, caught her hand. “But you haven’t even touched me yet.” And before she could say anything he had started to slide the silk glove off her hand. But he still did not release her hand.

Instead, he lifted it to his mouth, his lips lightly brushing her wrist, then her knuckles.

Marinette’s lips parted. Adrien must have noticed because he looked at her suddenly with such intensity that she wondered if she would burst into flames.

And then his mouth was on hers. His lips moved gently at first but when Marinette’s lips started to move with them they turned demanding, his tongue now touching her bottom lip. His hand on her waist pulled her totally against him, and she felt the hardness of him pressed up against her belly.

He pulled away, and she moaned in complaint. Taking both of her hands in one of his he pressed her against the wall, forgetting that they had now moved out from the safety of the topiary. Marinette didn’t notice either, she was otherwise engaged in trying to figure out exactly what she had just done.

“Your name.” He rasped. “I need your name. I must know you.”

She shook her head. “I can’t...”

“Then I’ll have to torture it out of you.” And with that his mouth was on hers again, this kiss rough, his tongue demanding.

He pulled away again and she gasped for air. “Your name my lady. I can do this all night.” Marinette thought that fate wasn’t half-bad.

“I told you...”

“Marinette?!” Her mother's voice, filled with shock made Marinette’s heart stop, her blood running cold.

Oh, god. Lady Chemack was with her. She was ruined. She had been caught in the Garden with a man pressing her against the wall. She started to panic, she had thought she had a bad reputation before and now...

She looked from her mother to Adrien, who had gone stiff, his mouth drawn into a tight line. Her breath sped up, her hands began to sweat and she felt lightheaded.

Adrien’s face started to swirl. Oh, she felt like she was about to-

Everything went black, and she collapsed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! a little shorter chapter. Let me know what you think.


	6. A Proposal

When Marinette came to, she was laying on a couch in a strange parlor room.

 

“I will make the necessary arrangements.” A male voice said evenly- _Adrien’s voice_ \- she realized.

 

Marinette sat up, looking around the room. Adrien was standing with his back to her and was talking to her mother, who was the first to notice that Marinette had come to.

 

“Marinette.” She said gently, looking at her with a pity that made Marinette’s insides crawl. Adrien turned to look at her as well and she wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

 

“What is happening?”

 

Sabine sighed. “I’m sorry Marinette. We didn’t have a choice.”

 

Her stomach twisted, her throat suddenly tightening as if an unseen hand had suddenly grabbed her by the neck. Of course. She was a fallen woman now. Lady Chemack had seen her and she was one of the biggest gossips in London. The whole ton will know by the end of the week.

 

“What will become of me?” She choked.

 

A compromised woman had few options. None of them would be favorable. Of course, there would be no repercussions for Adrien. He would continue on, marry an untouched and slender blonde with a title and a dowry larger than most gentlemen’s incomes.

 

She expected a more pitying look from her mother, but Sabine’s expression was almost... pleased?

 

“You’re getting married Marinette. By the end of the week if Lord Noir can obtain a special license in time.”

 

“ _Married_?” Marinette squeaked. In the corner of the room, Adrien raised an eyebrow in amusement. “But I... well I....”

 

Her mother’s soft hand suddenly grasped her hand tightly. “This is your best option, Mari. By far.”

 

Adrien cleared his throat. “I must be going. I will secure the license by Thursday, at the latest.”

 

“Wait, Adr- Lord Noir...” Marinette called out, but he either didn’t hear or ignored

her and the door shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

“Noir!”

 

Adrien grumbled a swear and whirled around to face his best friend. He barely had time to register the rage on Nino’s face before a fist collided with his jaw and knocked him off balance.

 

“My _sister in law_? Is this who you are now? Now you’re compromising gentle ladies and ruin-“

 

“Nino!”

 

“ _Quiet_. You know Noir, we had great times when we were young. I won’t deny it. _But grow up man. By God_!”

 

“I’m marrying her,” Adrien muttered, massaging his jaw.

 

Nino didn’t hear. “I have half a mind to make this a matter of honor Adrien. S _he’s my wife’s sister_!”

 

“ _I’m marrying her_!” Adrien spat, posture straightening.

 

“Wait- what?”

 

“I’m not going to abandon her. I’m not as much of a monster as you think I am.”

 

“I never thought you-“

 

Adrien’s eyes were cold. “You never thought what? That I was a monster? Or that I would be at least half a gentleman and make an engagement.”

 

When he received no quick reply from his childhood friend he turned and continued toward his coach.

 

“Always so bloody dramatic” Nino muttered to himself as he watched Adrien step into his coach.

 

* * *

 

“I’m getting married, Tikki. To an earl- no, to a future duke! And I barely know him. I know his mouth maybe. But he didn’t even know my name! What if now..”

 

Her young lady’s maid said nothing, dutifully helping Marinette out of her stays with an amused look.

 

“... He probably wants nothing to do with me. He’s going to lock me in the attic so I don’t trip and break some priceless heirloom. And then he’s going to have a French affair and fall in love with a governess...”

 

“Miss, I think you’re overthinking it.”

 

“And then the house will catch on fire and I’ll burn to death in the attic.”

 

“What an illustrative story miss. It sounds like it would make a brilliant novel.”

 

“It’s _possible_! Unlikely, perhaps. And I told you to call me Marinette.”

 

“If the butler caught me calling you by your given name I’d be thrown out of the house.”

 

“And I would hire you right back!” Marinette countered quickly. It was true. Tikki may have been a lady’s maid, but she was the best friend she had besides Alya.

 

The redhead laughed and finished taking the pins out of Marinette’s hair. “I’ll go ready your bath.”

 

Once Tikki had left the room, Marinette turned to look at herself in the mirror. That was the face of the future Duchess of Agreste. She held back a laugh, imagining all of the women this season who fancied themselves Adrien’s soon-to-be bride. All were tall, blonde, fair and slender with classically beautiful features. Marinette had a circular face and large eyes, and she was short with most of her weight around her hips and thighs. Marinette’s only stylish attributes were her pale skin and blue eyes. Marinette’s laugh caught in her throat and her eyes started to sting.

 

_Shouldn’t she be happy?_ She was engaged to the most eligible man in London when she had no hope of a match before. And he was handsome and desirable, he had made her feel things that night on the porch that she’d never felt before.

 

But Adrien hadn’t chosen her. He had been attracted to a girl in a mask, and they had been stupid enough to get caught. Now he was practically forced to marry a girl who wasn’t beautiful, blonde, or graceful- a girl who wasn’t groomed from birth to marry a duke and throw balls and manage a household.

 

Marinette was happy, she told herself. Adrien was pressured to marry her, but he could have done the ungentlemanly thing and chosen not to. She was lucky that he had chosen honor. But there was a painful thought that if she hadn’t been compromised, Adrien would have left the party and never thought of her again.

 

The thought was too sharp and it left a sharp aching in her chest. So Marinette pushed it as far away as she could, wiped her cheeks, and started her bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the wait! I wasn't sure that everyone still wanted it, but I decided to continue it no matter the response. Please send me corrections/comments/concerns :) Also, I started a new job this week! Hope you guys are having a great June.


	7. The Taste of Bread

 

“A caller for you Miss. The Lord Noir.”

 

Marinette looked up sharply from her sewing. It shouldn’t be a surprise, he was her fiancée and it was customary for him to call. Still, he felt like a stranger to her and she almost felt nervous.

 

“Send him in please”

 

* * *

 

Adrien wasn’t sure why he agreed to marry Miss Dupain-Cheng. Of course, he had been caught alone with her, and her honor was ruined. But it would certainly fit his reputation as the dangerous Lord Noir to cast her away, and he had convinced himself long ago that, like his father, he cared for nobody but himself.

 

It wasn’t uncommon for him to seduce young ladies at parties. But they were usually actresses, singers, or other loose women. But he’d never seen anything more thrilling than the way her red gown fell over her pale, freckled shoulders. Or how her eyes, the color of the Mediterranean, caught the moonlight and danced when she was amused.

 

He had decided not to marry to spite his father. Wouldn’t marrying a girl with no title spite him as much? He still didn’t need to beget an heir, he just wouldn’t spend himself inside her. She would never know.

 

And his little ladybug would be his, she would be untouched by another man, forever.

 

So when Adrien knocked on the door of the Dupain-Cheng residence with a bouquet of hyacinths and bluebells, he had no doubt in his decision. 

 

Adrien was led through the house by a butler who’s drooping cheeks reminded him of a hound. The Dupain-Cheng’s London residence was small and not lavishly furnished, there were no ornate portraits or fine crystal on display as a flaunt of wealth. And while Adrien had grown up in a house of excessive means with expensive furniture and fine art, he knew that Marinette’s home held more wealth than his ever would.

 

The butler opened the door to the drawing room and there she was, bathed in light from the west-facing window. Dark strands of hair that had escaped from her braid fell around her face in a way that made Adrien want to undo her hairstyle and run her dark locks through his fingers.

 

Somewhat smugly, Adrien reminded himself that he would have plenty of time to do that later.

 

He realized she was staring at him, and he eased into his signature catlike grin.“Hello, Marinette.”

 

“Good afternoon, Lord Noi- I mean, Adrien.” Her voice was soft and light and Adrien drew closer. “Please, sit down.”

 

He did as she asked, taking a seat on the chair next to her. She smiled and said nothing. He smiled, also silent.

 

Adrien cleared his throat.

 

Marinette bit her lip and stared down at her knees.

 

After a couple of minutes of uncomfortable and awkward nothingness, Marinette looked up at him.

 

“Should I call for some tea?”

 

He coughed. “Yes, thank you.”

 

A servant deposited a tray of tea and desserts on the table.

 

“Do you have a cough, my lord?” Marinette asked, one delicate eyebrow raised.

 

“ I just- _what is that smell_?” The smell of something honeyed and warm hit his nose mid-sentence and his mouth watered.

 

She smiled and pulled out a loaf of bread from a cloth on the table. “This bread is our family recipe. There are bakers on my father’s side, French, I believe. Try it.”

 

Adrien reached out and tore a piece of the bread, taking a little longer than necessary so that his fingers brushed against Marinette’s knuckles. Satisfied by her little shiver, he withdrew with the bread.

 

“Cold, Marinette?”

 

She sputtered. “N-No.” Swallowing, she composed herself. “Try the bread.”

 

Adrien did. And damn it all if it wasn’t the best bread he’d ever tasted. He’d barely even thought about the taste of bread his whole life, preferring steaks and sweets. The Duke of Agreste didn’t eat bread, believing that it was a food of the poor and bottom class.

But now, after tasting the warm sweet bread, with the thin layer of honey and sugar on the crust and its light, buttery insides...

 

“Marinette. What servant made this? I will pay them double to come to...”

 

Marinette laughed. “A servant didn’t make it my lord. I did. With my father.”

 

A woman of good breeding making her own food? At first, he was shocked, and then confused, and then...

 

And then he thought about her small white hands rolling the dough back and forth, kneading it and massaging- 

 

“ _Amazing_ ,” he whispered.

 

Marinette, who had been about to launch into a discussion about the benefits of making your own bread, was caught off guard and closed her mouth.

 

“Adrien?” Her voice, so high and soft, like a little bird- he reached suddenly across the table, grabbing both her wrists with one hand. “Adrien!”

 

He kissed her. And her mouth tasted like the bloody bread. And if her mouth tasted like honey...

 

Adrien didn’t want to finish that thought. He was already starting to grow a rather pressing problem, and that would only make it worse.

 

Two days, he reminded himself.

 

The earl pulled away, leaving Marinette gasping. “I’ve gotten the license. We marry in two days.”

 

And then, while Marinette was still processes- well, _everything_ \- he thanked her for her hospitality, said goodbye, and departed before she even said a word.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I created a tumblr so you all can talk to me if you'd like. It's idrownedallmysims! 
> 
> Also!!! Important! Would you prefer I bump the rating and add some serious spice? Or leave it as it is? Thanks!


	8. Marinette Expresses Her Doubts

Marinette became the countess Noir two days later in a private ceremony that was made up of the Viscount and Viscountess of Carapace, her parents, and Adrien’s valet, Plagg.

 

The Duke had not come, and Adrien had not mentioned him, so Marinette remained silent on the matter.

 

They were going directly to Adrien’s estate afterward, Marinette’s belongings already transported to his home. Her home. It was storming, and too far from London to turn back and too far from Castle Noir to try and muddle through. The commotion around finding the closest inn managed to distract Marinette temporarily from the night ahead, and she welcomed the distraction gratefully.

 

Her mother had given her little information about the act, only explaining that it was a husband’s right and was necessary to have children. Alya had gone into more detail, telling an embarrassed Marinette that it was sort of like dancing, but not really, and then proceeded to describe something about being _entered_ that made Marinette understand that it must be some form of torture.

 

She said nothing to her husband about it, she didn’t see why he would care. He’d barely spoken to her, and certainly wouldn’t allow her to escape her duties. No matter what she said or felt, she was his and he could force her to do whatever he liked.

 

The thought didn’t sit well with her, and the lurch of the carriage became overwhelmingly nauseating.

 

“Are you all right?” He was staring intensely at her, his emerald eyes scanning her face.

 

“Y-yes. Just...”

 

“What is it?” The question wasn’t demanding or sharp, but truly inquisitive. His concern, real or not, loosened some of the knots that were building in Marinette’s stomach.

 

“I’m just a little nervous. That’s all.” Marinette looked down and fidgeted with her dress.

 

“Marinette. I know we hardly know each other. But I would never purposely hurt you. I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

 

She looked up, blue eyes meeting green, and believed him.

 

_____

 

Marinette tried not to act bewildered when the owner of the inn, upon seeing the crest on their coach, ran out to greet them personally. Adrien just nodded at the man, declining the dinner he offered, and then politely asked him to direct them to their room.

 

The owner assured them that this room was the best room in the Inn, and wished the newlyweds an _excellent_ night.

 

Marinette didn’t miss the way he winked at Adrien before closing the door.

 

“Are you hungry?”

 

Marinette shook her head, instead unfastening her wet coat from her shoulders. He seemed to accept this answer and took off his coat as well. She tried to swallow her panic when he started to untie his cravat. She really had believed him when he said that he would be gentle.

 

But what Alya had described did not sound gentle at all. It sounded _terrible._

 

His hands took hold of her shoulders, turning her gently to face him. He had taken off his waistcoat and shirt and she was face to face with his chest due to their differing heights. Marinette felt her cheeks grow hot.

 

Adrien laughed and his thumb grazed her cheek. Marinette’s stomach sank. He was laughing at her. She knew this would happen. Devilish Adrien Agreste, who had been with countless temptresses, was amused at how pathetically innocent she was. Crushing doubt overcame her again.

 

Adrien paused and tilted Marinette’s face up to his. “What’s wrong?”

 

Marinette tried to squirm out of his grasp, but failed and instead dropped her eyes to the ground. “N-Nothing.”

 

Cursing, he released her. “Marinette. I can tell that you’re upset.”

 

Couldn’t he just get it over with already? They only needed to do it once, and a man like him could afford a mistress. “L-let’s just k-k keep going.”

 

“I can’t”

 

“What do you mean you can’t?”

 

“I’m not particularly aroused by an unwilling partner. Or even a hesitant one.” Adrien ran a finger through his hair. “Can you _please_ just tell me what’s wrong?”

 

Marinette bit her lip. She was tempted to believe he cared about her feelings. Delaying erotic acts to discuss feelings was out of character for the man he was rumored to be.

 

But there was a very likely possibility that the rumors weren’t true.

 

“I just... well I just…

 

…I know that I’m not very experienced and I don’t really know what goes where and what to do and I’m quite scared because I know it’s going to hurt and I want to be desirable for you I really do...”

 

Marinette was speaking so fast that she could barely understand what she was saying.

 

“And then I asked Alya and she said...”

 

“... and I was very concerned because I can’t _imagine_ something _inside_ of me....”

 

“Marinette.”

 

“... anyways, I know that you have had relations with countless women more desirable and experienced than me and I know that it must be very disappointing to marry me- and again I’m very grateful.”

 

“Wait.” Adrien pressed a finger to her lips. “You think you’re not desirable?”

 

Marinette nodded, trying to ignore the very _shameful_ urge to bite the finger pressed against her lips.

 

“Marinette.” Adrien closed the space between them. “I’ve desired you since the moment I saw you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good things to come ;) have a good day tomorrow!


	9. Teach Me

“I’ve desired you from the moment I saw you.”  
His face hovered just above hers and she could feel his breath on her lips. Marinette’s heart beat so fast that she could hear it in her ears.  
“Adrien...” She whispered. She wanted him. There was a heat in her belly that seemed to cloud her judgment and made her feel like she needed him to do something. Not that she wasn’t still afraid, but her fear mingled with excitement and curiosity. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

He opened his mouth but she continued before he could make a sound.

“I’m inexperienced.” She tentatively put her hands on his shoulders. “But I want to learn. For you. Can you teach me?”

If Adrien thought he wanted her before, this was a new kind of desire so potent that it took every ounce of willpower he had to not throw her on the bed and taste every inch of her body. _Teach me_ , she had said, in a hushed voice so sweet and light that it reminded him of a little songbird. _Teach me._

She was his. He would teach her and she would only know his touch.

He kissed her neck, taking great satisfaction in her little gasp when he sucked lightly at the corner of her jaw. One of his hands found her breast, the other moving reaching behind her and unlacing her gown until it fell from her shoulders.

Adrien felt like he was about to burst into flame at any moment when the silken fabric fell away from her soft, white breasts. She blushed and on reflex attempted to cover them.

He caught her hands. “Don’t. You’re beautiful, Marinette.”

Her blush darkened.

Adrien bent down and wrapped his arms around her bottom. Before she could protest he had picked her up and laid her down on the bed. He analyzed her like she was a feast and he couldn’t decide what to devour first.

He made a decision and he took her breast into his mouth, tasting the salty-sweetness of her skin. His hand moved up the inside of her thigh until it found her thatch of soft, dark curls.

Marinette squirmed and moaned when his finger parted her, dipping into the heat and wetness there.

He released her breast with a soft pop. She made a little noise of disappointment, her abused nipple exposed to the cool air of the room. Adrien chuckled and his lips brushed softly against hers in an apology. “You’ll like this kiss better.”

Her eyes were half-lidded, and she nodded, hungry for more of the pleasure only he could give.

Her eyes widened when he shifted down her body and his lips hovered above the lips of her sex. His fingers had felt strange there, but it was nothing compared to when the heat of his mouth descended upon her, his tongue exploring every secret nook and cranny.

She attempted to say his name, but it only came out an incoherent mumble.

Something was building inside of her. A liquid heat pooling in her stomach, pulling her insides this way and that. Every caress of his tongue against her made her squirm, her mouth parting and muscles tightening.

Adrien felt her buck against her, and knowing she was close he pulled away, ignoring her whimper of protest and fumbling to unbutton and rid himself of his increasingly uncomfortable pants. He made the mistake of looking back up at her and he twitched in his hand at the sight of her laid out on the bed, flushed and glowing in the candlelight.

“Marinette..” He rasped. “This will hurt. But then it will go away and you’ll never have to feel it again.”

She nodded, unable to find words, and he nudged her thighs open and positioned himself at her opening. He braced his hands on either side of her, using all of the willpower he had left to keep himself from plunging violently inside of her.

She grabbed his arm and groaned his name.

He thrust into her, feeling her stretch around him, and he stilled. His whole body was tight as he waited for her to adjust.

“ _Please._..” Her nails bit into his forearms. “I need... more.”

He lost all semblances of control and began to move inside of her. She squealed and gasped with each thrust.

Soon, he felt her start to clamp wildly around him and her back arched. Her hands moved from his arms to the back and clasped at his shoulders. She shuddered, and went rigid, before relaxing completely and falling back against the bed.

Adrien buried himself within her one last time before pulling out of her and spending on her stomach.

He kissed her, although she seemed so exhausted that she barely even registered it, and he pulled away in search for a towel to wipe her with.

She was dangerous to him. His plan. He had barely remembered to pull out from her, had been so mesmerized by her clenched around him that he had forgotten.

He would be more careful, Adrien promised himself. He would enjoy every inch of her, he would protect and cherish her, and his father would still never live to see his heir.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! This was hard to write lol. Hope you guys liked it.
> 
>  
> 
> friendly reminder that i made a tumblr! it's idrownedallmysims.


	10. Castle Noir

“Marinette, wake up.”

Someone was gently shaking her shoulder. Marinette mumbled something incoherent and nestled further into the warm mass she was cuddled up to. She had barely slept last night, for many reasons, and it was no surprise to her that she had drifted off during the final coach ride towards Adrien’s home.

“Marinette..”

She groaned and began to begrudgingly open her eyes.

Adrien was smiling at her and she realized that she had burrowed into his coat in her sleep.

“Hello, my lady.” He said as Marinette quickly sat up and scooted to the other end of the seat. “Sorry for waking you, but I thought you’d want to see this.” He gestured towards the window on her side.

Marinette looked out at the small castle starting to peak through the trees.

“Is that-“

“Castle Noir. Our home.”

It really was a castle. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, or ornate, but it’s stone walls stood proudly next to a pond that reflected the landscape around it.

It wasn’t at all the fearsome black castle (probably guarded by a dragon) that she imagined. It looked... cozy. Like a home.

“It's amazing Adrien. Although I assumed you would want to live somewhere more modern.”

He shrugged. “I updated it with a hot water system and other modern features. But I like the history.”

As they drew closer Marinette realized that the castle was built partially into the large pond so that the water came right up to its side. She imagined looking out a window and seeing the sparkling water directly below.

“I love it already.

* * *

 

After being formally introduced to the servants of the house, Adrien took Marinette on a tour.

She found that she liked the inside of the castle as much as the outside. Almost every room had large, glass windows and a fireplace. It was decorated in dark, green tones that reminded her of a forest floor. She even decided on a personal parlor room on the second floor that overlooked the water.

The whole time Adrien led her around the house he grinned and joked. His hand rested on her back, his thumb tracing over a ridge on her spine.

“Who’s that?” Marinette asked, pointing to a large portrait of a woman. The woman was beautiful, with blonde hair and slanted green eyes that seemed bright even through the painting.

Adrien’s demeanor changed and his hand stilled. “My mother. Her name was Emilie.”

Marinette’s heart fell. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

He stared at the painting. “I am too.”

They stood in front of the portrait in reverent silence. Marinette took his hand and squeezed.

After a moment, Adrien squeezed back. “We should probably head back. I’m sure you’re tired from the journey.”

She wasn’t tired at all, but she nodded and followed him back towards the main area of the castle. They ate a small dinner together, the friendly tone returning when he joked over smoked haddock that their marriage was “of-fish-ial.”

They retired to their room, where Adrien educated her more on matters of delight until neither of them could move.

But as Marinette drifted off, the eyes of Emilie Agreste haunted her, the green orbs shining in her mind and leaving a dreadful spirit in her stomach.

There was something Adrien wasn’t telling her, she thought as she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! I had this chapter written and then I accidentally deleted it. Super short but a new one should be coming soon :)


	11. The letter

Marinette sat in her new parlor room, sewing another gift for Alya’s baby.

 

Maybe she would be making clothes for her own baby soon.

 

The thought made her smile. She hadn’t had a traditional love match with Adrien, but she wanted children as quickly as possible. And she might even be pregnant now.

 

She didn’t know exactly how lovemaking worked, but she was pretty sure that once he went inside of her she could become with child. And he had been inside of her more times in the past week than she could count.

 

She could be carrying a future duke in her stomach. She put a hand on her stomach, imagining swelling. She wouldn’t bleed for another week, so there was no point in worrying about it until then. But she couldn’t help but daydream about Adrien carrying their daughter on his shoulders, or teaching their son how to swim in the pond.

 

She was in the middle of imagining her husband holding a newborn when Tikki entered the room. “Pardon me, my lady, but a letter just arrived for you.”

 

“Tikki. Now that you work directly for me, I insist that you call me Marinette.”

 

The redhead pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “Okay. Marinette.”

 

Marinette grinned and took the letter from her outstretched hand.

“That’s weird. This is Adrien’s family seal.”

 

“Maybe it’s to congratulate you on the wedding?”

 

“Maybe... But Adrien never talks about his family.” Marinette thought of the silent moment in front of his mother’s portrait and frowned. “Please sit down Tikki. I might need your advice.”

 

Tikki obeyed and Marinette opened the letter.

 

_The Countess of Noir,_

 

_Congratulations on your recent marriage. I am sorry I was unable to attend but I was seeing to emergent matters of my estate. You will understand, as you will be the lady of it someday._

 

_I invite you to visit the Agreste House at your earliest convenience. I would be thrilled to meet you and perhaps a future grandson._

 

_I have written to you because my son and I have not spoken for a long time. Perhaps a feminine influence may heal the wound between father and son._

 

_Sincerely,_

_Gabriel, Duke of Agreste._

 

 

“It’s his father. He wants me to come visit.”

 

“Then why do you look so upset?”

 

Marinette’s grip on the letter tightened and the paper crumpled. “Adrien has never spoken of his father. I don’t think he would be happy with this letter.”

 

Tikki softly touched Marinette’s arm. “Maybe you can help? You have a way of bringing out the best in people, Marinette!”

 

“I don’t know Tikki... even if you’re right I still would be betraying Adrien’s trust. But technically he never told me not to speak to his father...”

 

Tikki gathered up Marinette’s tea set. “You’ll do the right thing Marinette. Please excuse me. I must get back to unpacking.”

 

Marinette nodded and Tikki left the room, leaving Marinette alone and unsure.

 

Unable to make a decision she picked up her embroidery and got back to work.

* * *

 

Adrien watched Marinette rearrange her plate for the fourth time that night. She would barely meet his gaze, and her conversation consisted of one or two-word answers.

 

He was disappointed. He’d thought she was becoming less nervous around him but it seemed he was mistaken.

 

“Do you not like the meal?”

 

Marinette looked up. “Hm? Oh, it’s fine.”

 

“Just fine?”

 

“Fine is good.”

 

“You’re barely eating.”

 

“I’m not that hungry.”

 

“Do you feel unwell?”

 

“No.”

 

Adrien snapped and slammed his palm on the table. “Dammit, Mari! What is the matter! You’re barely eating or talking.”

 

Marinette bit her lip as she struggled to come up with an excuse. “Maybe... maybe I’m just with child?”

 

Adrien snorted before he could stop himself. He knew there was no way she could be pregnant, he’d made sure of it. But there was no point in informing her of his plan. It would only hurt her.

 

“Well... I suppose that could be it...”

 

Marinette nodded and released a sigh of relief. There was no point in informing him of the letter. It would only hurt him.

* * *

 

They finished their dinners relatively quickly and headed to bed. They'd fallen into a nighttime routine, undressing each other as they softly discussed their day. Each night grew more tender than the last, adding one more loving step before bed. Lately, Adrien had started brushing her hair himself, gently running his fingers through her soft, dark hair. Marinette had become comfortable removing his clothing and setting it carefully over a chair. (Plagg, Adrien's valet, would probably skewer her if she destroyed one of his tailcoats). As Adrien unlaced her day dress and slipped it off her shoulders she shuddered, the letter fading from her thoughts.

 

She turned to face him, running a hand down the side of his face. “Teach me something new tonight.”

 

Adrien, still unconvinced that nothing was wrong, hesitated. Sensing his hesitation she stretched up to kiss him.

 

“Please, Adrien?”

 

He groaned. Maybe he would find out tomorrow.

 

He had more pressing matters to deal with at the moment.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I have a bunch of smut written but no ideas on how to write it in the story! The struggle! Also, I have been researching and really trying to become a better writer for you guys. Never thought I would write a fanfic before! That's why any comments or criticism is so appreciated. Anyways have a great weekend!


	12. Adrien leaves, and then comes back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hasn't anyone ever told Adrien not to drink on the job?

Adrien left that morning, off seeing to a flood in one of the corners of his estate. It was odd to have the castle to herself, even though they spent most of their days apart.

 

Marinette busied herself that morning with walks by the lake, trips to the kitchen, and choosing new furniture for the outdated parts of the house.

 

After lunch, finding nothing else important to do, she opened the box with all of her sewing supplies.

 

The letter fell out.

 

Marinette sighed. She had purposely forgotten about that. She picked it up and studied it for a minute. It had only been in her possession for a day and already it was weighing on her conscience.

 

She had to do something with it. She would either throw it away or reply.

 

Make a decision Marinette, you can do this,

 

Throw it away or reply.

 

Throw it away or reply.

 

She made a sudden decision and threw the letter into the fireplace. She wouldn’t betray Adrien. He had treated her with the utmost respect and he deserved the same from her.

 

Feeling satisfied, she sat down and started sewing.

 

* * *

 

It was late when she heard the sound of Adrien’s coach outside. It had already been dark when she cuddled up in the front room to watch for him, and several hours had passed since then.

 

She stretched and pulled herself out of her chair with a yawn. What time even was it? She was about to check the clock when the door open and Adrien came through it.

 

Well, actually he stumbled through it.

 

His hair was ruffled and his dark clothes were disheveled and dirty. He staggered towards her and pulled her into a crushing hug.

 

“Mmmarined” he slurred and she turned her head to avoid smelling his breath. “Dearr wife. I’m so glad to see you!”

 

Plagg followed through the door behind him. “My lady.”

 

She looked at the valet in panic. “What happened to him?”

 

The black haired man rolled his eyes. “ _My lord._.” he drawled in a way that made the title sound anything but respectful, “obliged a few tenants in their request to buy him a drink.” He cleared his throat. “Several. Drinks.”

 

So that’s what that awful smell was.

 

Adrien started to droop in her arms and considering that he was at least a head taller than her and solid muscle she started to buckle underneath him. “Adrien, stop! Why would you drink like this?”

 

He groggily straightened. “I just had... some brandy…”

 

Plagg cleared his throat again. “M’lord started with just a drink, my lady. But he cannot hold his liquor.”

 

“Sthat’s not true!”

 

Marinette groaned. “Can you just help me get him into bed?”

 

The valet nodded and grasped Adrien by the arm.They carried him into the bedroom where Plagg took his leave while Marinette helped him remove his clothes.

 

She was pulling off his trousers when she noticed he had developed a problem.

 

“No! Go back down!” She frantically tried to force his erection back down.

 

“Nng... That’s not going to make it go away...” Adrien croaked.

 

Marinette tried smoothing it down, but judging by his strangled noises she was only making it worse. She stopped, deciding to just try and get him under the covers.

 

“Wh- Marinette… wait…” He grabbed her arm. “I need…”

 

“What do you need?”

 

“I need you, Marinette. I can’t... won’t sleep... like this.” Although he was intoxicated, he was still strong and he pulled her so that she fell on top of him.

 

“Adrien I can’t. I still don’t know..”

 

His hands clumsily moved up and down her sides. “You can… It’s..” he hiccuped “not hard. Well. I’m hard. But it’s not.”

 

Marinette shook her head. “I..”

 

“Just touch me Marinette.’

 

She did.

 

A new sort of confidence overtook her as she took him between her hands. Unsure of what to do and curious, she felt up and down the hard length. He was softer than she expected, like fine suede or velvet, but underneath the surface was a hardness that made it stand up.

 

While Marinette was tentatively rubbing up and down, Adrien was making all sorts of choked noises that she could only assume meant she was doing something right. His manhood jerked, startling her, and she turned crimson. She grabbed a hold of him, telling herself that the better she did this the sooner he would go to sleep.

 

(And ignoring the fact that perhaps she was enjoying this as well).

 

Remembering how he had put his mouth on her before, she bent down and placed a gentle kiss at the head.

 

Adrien practically purred.

 

She kissed him again, this time dragging her tongue along the length.

 

“Mari.... bloody hell... “ Adrien ground out.

 

She blushed and did it again. Adrien, with new vigor, pulled Marinette up.

 

 _“Inside you_ ,” he grunted.

 

She understood and climbed on top of him. Who was she? Never in Marinette’s wildest dreams did she imagine she would be confident and comfortable enough to have sexual control- the power to do whatever she desired.

 

And she desired him. She lowered himself down on him, feeling that fullness in her belly. She experimented just as she had done before when touching him. She found that she liked it best rocking back and forth as she moved up and down. He must have liked it too because soon he was gripping her thighs so tightly that she worried there would be bruising.

 

Wait... What was he doing? He was trying to roll over as if to throw her off. She stopped confused and started to get off when she felt a hot unfamiliar feeling flood her womb.

 

Adrien cursed pushing her off of him. “What have you done?” He asked furiously. Sobered, he clutched his face. “ _What have I done_?”

 

Before Marinette even said a word he started to get up, panicked. She slid to the edge of the bed, drawing up a sheet to cover herself. Adrien's eyes were wide and his chest was heaving. What did she do wrong?

 

“Adrien you’re drunk! Please lay back down. What is the matter?”

 

“I need to be alone!” He growled. Marinette drew back, afraid. She had never seen him act like this before.

 

“Er... I’ll go.”

 

“You don’t have to...”

 

“No, its alright. I’ll be in the bedroom next door.”

 

He said nothing, so she gathered up her dressing gown and left the room, trying not to release the hot tears stinging her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, ordinary people with ordinary lives and a secret :) Thanks again for sticking with me. I'm proud of Marinette in this chapter! And annoyed with Adrien... honestly, what did he expect? What do you think Marinette will do next chapter? 
> 
> I love to hear from you all! Once again, criticism is welcomed. Also, what did you guys think of Gamer 2.0? Chat sacrificing himself again for ladybug and trusting her was definitely my favorite part. That or Max playing video games with Tom and Sabine. Anyway, have a great rest of your week!!


	13. Author's note

_**Hey everyone, just wanted to let you know where I'm at right now! I feel like this story is disorganized (and while a good attempt for a first fic) I didn't think I was doing it justice. Soooooo, I started a new fic that will definitely take some scenes from this one. I'm truly inspired and awed by how many of you supported this so I hope that you'll like my new story as well. (Same idea, little bit different plot).** _

 

_**What do you guys think? Should I trudge on with this story or focus on the new one. I am at your service bc I'm very approval seeking and I want you all to like it ^-^** _

 

_**Hope you fellow Americans had a great 4th of July! And if you're not American I hope you're having a great first week of the month. :)** _


	14. Marinette makes the dramatic exit this time

Marinette wasn’t a morning person. But this might of been the worst morning of all. She woke up in a cold, unfamiliar bed with her dress still half on and needing a bath. The events of last night replayed in her head, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what she had done wrong. Whatever had happened, her husband had made it clear to her that he didn’t care for her nearly as much as she did for him. 

 

She groaned and rolled out of bed. She needed a bath, and maybe some bacon. Perhaps bacon in the bath. She wrapped herself in a sheet and stepped into the hallway and an elderly servant almost gasped at her improper dress. After asking him to send Tikki up she retreated back into the room and examined herself in the looking glass. That was decidedly not a good idea and she couldn’t blame the servant for gasping. 

 

She looked terrible. 

 

Someone opened the door and she turned, half expecting Adrien, only to find her lady’s maid staring at her with concern. 

 

“Marinette? What happened?” Tikki rushed over and immediately started unlacing Marinette’s corset, which had twisted painfully to the side in her sleep. 

 

“I haven’t a clue, Tikki. One moment we were… um… and then the next he had thrown me off of him. He was so drunk and angry, Tikki I- I don’t know what I did!” 

 

Tikki bit her lip. “I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. Men- well, I don’t wish to be disrespectful.” 

 

“Would you draw me a bath?” 

 

The lady’s maid nodded. After Marinette was bathed and dressed in a clean frock, they sat down on the bed while Tikki brushed through her hair. 

 

“Tikki… Something happened last night that has never happened before. And I don’t mean the way my husband behaved. Well…” She gulped. “While we were… intimate… I think something went wrong.”

 

The hairbrush, entangled in a knot of hair, paused. “What do you mean?”

 

“I felt something…” Her cheeks reddened and her voice faded to a whisper. “Something sticky and hot went out of him and, well, into me.” 

 

“Marinette, forgive me but are you describing his. Seed?”

 

“Seed?”

 

“It’s what a man gives a woman that makes a child.”

 

“I’m not sure. But we’ve been together many times before and that has never happened!” 

 

Tikki set down the hairbrush and Marinette turned to face her. Tikki’s eyes were wide, her hands fidgeting. “You mean to say that he has never released?” 

 

“I suppose so. I don’t know anything about this at all.” She looked away, fixing her eyes on a chair in the corner. Of course, she had done something wrong. Adrien was accustomed to women who knew everything about intimacy, and she in her humiliating ignorance had failed at the most important part of wifely duties.  “Is that supposed to happen every time?”

 

“Well, I’ve never heard of a man not reaching a climax. And I have many friends who have husbands. Although… well, that’s impossible anyway.”

 

“What is it? Tell me?” 

 

Tikki pulled Marinette’s hair back into a plait and slid off the bed. The air in the room became thick and uncomfortable. “If a man does not want to make a woman with child, he will  _ release _ outside of the womb. But Adrien, of course, will want an heir, so I don't see any reason why he would do that.” 

 

So, it wasn’t something she had done, Marinette realized. What had Adrien been keeping from her? Nothing made sense. “I think I would like to pay a visit to my sister.”

 

* * *

It took her  _ hours  _ to find Adrien. He was sitting in his study, his face rough with the beginnings of a beard and his clothes in disarray. He didn’t even look up when she entered the room or in any other way acknowledge her existence. 

 

“My lord?” He grunted in response. “I would like to see my sister. May I take the coach?” Her words were thick in her mouth and she hated this. She had known this was not a marriage of affection, especially not one of love, but there was a coldness to him now that she had never known was possible. She tapped her foot anxiously on the carpet as her request was met with silence. 

 

Was this to be the rest of her life? Surely Adrien could not ignore her forever, but would he ever care for her again? She knew men of his rank rarely loved their wives, even keeping multiple mistresses in comfortable houses in London. The thought of Adrien making love with another woman made her feel sick to her stomach. He still hadn’t answered and instead, he poured himself a glass of liquor. Her shame mutated into irritation. She had done her best to be a good wife and had given him every opportunity to show her what he wanted. She’d asked him to teach her, for goodness sake, and he had instead kept her in the dark and purposely withheld things from her. 

 

She was a countess now, and it was time to start acting like one. 

 

“Alright then. I will leave at noon for Carapace. I don’t know when I’ll be back and I’ll inform you of my plan once I arrive.” His fingers tightened around his glass in reply and angered, she spun and marched out of his study. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys rock. The comments on my author's note made me continue this fic! The other one is also up on my profile. Meanwhile, Marinette FINALLY starts to come into her own as a countess. I wonder what Alya will say?


	15. Carapace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette visits Alya. Plagg talks to Adrien.

Lord Carapace was waiting at the door when Marinette pulled up in front of Carapace House. 

 

“Marinette. Is everything okay?”

 

Marinette offered him a soft smile. “I just really need to speak to my sister.”

 

Nino ushered her in, leading her through the long hallway that connected most of the house. “Alya’s supposed to be in bed, as she’s nearly 23 weeks along. But you’ll find her in the study. She’s insisted on continuing to work on her newspaper column.”

 

She laughed. “That sounds like my sister.”

 

“Before you go in... if you’ll excuse me, but I’d like to tell you something.”

 

“Of course. You’ve been tremendously helpful by letting me stay here.”

 

Nino nodded, fidgeting with the buttons of his coat. “It’s about your husband.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Adrien... has not has an easy of a life as one might assume from his title. His father...”

 

Marinette’s gaze dropped to the floor. Was Nino trying to make her feel even more guilty?

 

“Well, their relationship has always been strained. In the past years, I think he’s become obsessed with hurting his father as much as his father had hurt him. Just... be patient with him. “

 

Marinette nodded and he opened the door to the study for her. Alya was sitting on a large, plush chair at the desk, writing away at some scrap of paper. She didn’t even look up when they answered the room. 

 

“For the last time, I am not just going to lay in bed all day. I love you dearly, Nino, but I will not give up my writing.” 

 

“I’m not asking you to, my dear.” He tugged at his collar and coughed. “At least, not again,” he murmured with a tone that could only convey terror. “Anyways, you have a visitor.”

 

Alya glanced up and gasped. “Marinette! You look- Well, I’ll be honest you’ve looked better.”

 

Marinette shrugged. “It’s been a tumultuous few days. I can’t say that I feel much better than I apparently look.”

 

Alya’s eyes roamed up and down her form, concerned. “You’re not with child, are you? You look nauseated enough.” 

 

Nino cleared his throat. “I’ll uh- just be leaving.” He kissed his wife on the cheek and left the two sisters. 

 

“About the pregnancy- that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Marinette averted Alya’s stare and fixed her gaze on the wall.

 

“So you are pregnant! Oh, congr-“

 

“No. I mean, I don’t know. I think... I think that Lord Noir has been lying to me.”

 

Alya put down her pen and leaned forward on the desk. “What?”

 

“Alya... I need to know about a man’s seed.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


He’d messed up. He’d managed to find a woman that cared about  _ him _ , not just his title or his money, and he’d lied to her face. Marinette was kind and giving. It was his job to protect her, and he was nothing but a monster to her. Adrien groaned and pinched his nose. 

 

_ He’d treated her the way his father treated him.  _

 

He paced the floors of his study, thinking. She must know now, what he withheld from her, she wasn’t an idiot. It would be surprising if she ever talked to him again. In all of his revenge and planning, he had let his hatred shape him into the cold-blooded monster he wanted to protect her from. It had to end. Someone knocked at the door and Adrien grumbled for them to come in. 

 

Plagg stood in the doorway, not even trying to hide his frown. 

 

“Lord Carapace has written to inform you that Lady Noir has arrived safely.”

 

“Good. Plagg, do you have a minute?” 

 

His valet sighed. “Yes, my lord.” 

 

Adrien thought for a moment, twisting his hands together as he paced. “What do you think I should do? About Lady Noir, I mean.”

 

“May I speak freely sir?” His face was unreadable as he spoke, his brow permanently arched in a way that made him look centuries wiser than everyone around him.

 

“You always do.”

 

Plagg cleared his throat. “In my opinion, you have been a colossal ass. I believe it would be in your best interest to apologize. And, I might add, stop treating her like she’s a fragile little child and more like a life partner.’

 

Adrien stopped pacing and stared at him in bewilderment. 

 

Plagg’s eyebrow raised half a millimeter more. “Would you like me to repeat it, my lord?”

 

Adrien scowled. “Once was enough, thank you.”

 

Plagg gave him a challenging look. He knew he was right and- blast it all- Adrien knew he was right too. It had been too long since he had given a real apology. An apologetic man is contradictory to the man Adrien had forced himself to become. The cold, heartless rake that he had created to mask his weakness was not the man he could be to his wife anymore. 

 

Adrien resumed his pacing. He would have to show her- give her a part of him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! Happy Monday! Plagg is me telling Adrien to get his shit together.


	16. That went well

Marinette returned almost five days later. Adrien watched her step out of the carriage and almost lose her balance. When she regained it, he smiled and made his way to the front door to greet her. 

 

She was laughing at something Plagg had said when she saw him, standing in the doorway. Her smile instantly faded. 

 

“Hello, Marinette.” He fiddled with the leg of his pants in a nervous habit he used to have when he was a boy. 

 

She examined him with her chin held high. “My lord.”

 

“You’re just in time for dinner.” 

 

“I think I’d prefer to take my meals in my room. I am exhausted from my journey.” Her words were short and cold. He knew she was irritated with him, but he’d never seen her like this before. 

 

“Oh, are you sure?” His thumbs slid into his pocket and he leaned back awkwardly. He wasn’t sure what to do. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened the other night.” It wasn’t often that he didn’t hold the power in a conversation and it frustrated him. Was he really so sheltered from conflict?

 

Marinette stopped walking towards the staircase and fixed him with a detached stare. “I wasn’t aware that we discussed things in this marriage,” she said, before stepping forward again. 

 

He clenched his hand into a fist, curling and relaxing his fingers to calm him down. “Marinette, wait! I di- you’re still my wife, damn it.” He was trying, he told himself, trying so hard to be polite and make her understand him. But he’d spent the last part of his life trying not to be a gentleman and each step she took away from him weakened his resolve. 

 

“Am I?” She asked over her shoulder. “Doesn’t a marriage have to be consummated? Forgive me, I must be naive in these things- but you knew that already, didn’t you?” 

 

Adrien snapped, lunging forward and grabbing her by the shoulder. He spun her around to face him and her head stopped so close to him they would rub noses if either of them moved the tiniest bit forward. Her eyebrow twitched infuriatingly upwards. “You know as well as I do that our marriage is thoroughly consummated, my dear.” He was surprised at how smoothly he spoke. A low pitch that he had perfected in his years as a rake. 

 

Marinette, who didn’t look disturbed in the slightest, cleared her throat. Her voice came out smooth as well but not like his. Her voice was sweet, like amber honey. “I thought the point of marital relations was to have children, dear? Although it’s good to know you have no qualms in laying a hand on your wife.” 

 

Adrien drew his hand back quickly as if he was been burned. “I didn’t hurt you,” he said quietly. 

 

For a moment, she dropped whatever icy mask she had donned for their reunion. Her gaze sank to the floor and she stepped back. “Not physically, no.” Without another word she quickly ascended up the stairs, brushing past Plagg on his way down. 

 

Plagg huffed in surprise as the armful of books he was carrying almost fell out of his grasp. He turned to look at Adrien, his dark eyes scanning over his employer. “Well, that went well.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knooowww I neglect this fic but it's rough writing it right now. It's not abandoned though, I promise! 
> 
> Sorry this is short!


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